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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27624542">Appetency</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/acosmist_t/pseuds/acosmist_t'>acosmist_t</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fred Weasley One Shots [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Detention, Dumbledore's Army, F/M, Fluff, Good Fred Weasley &amp; George Weasley, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Makeouts, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Protectiveness, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Reader-Insert, they kith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:47:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27624542</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/acosmist_t/pseuds/acosmist_t</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>appetency - n. a longing or desire</p><p>It’s safe to say that you had been in love with Fred Weasley since you were 11-years-old. It’s been a tough secret to keep, and it seems like it’s time to break the silence.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fred Weasley/Reader, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fred Weasley One Shots [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Appetency</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Requests: fred x reader request through my wattpad, best friends to lovers - you know the deal</p><p>Word Count: 6k</p><p>Warnings: honestly none really, it’s mostly just yearning and pining with a bit of kissing. there’s a punch?? i really don’t know, it’s very clean</p><p>a/n: IM NOT A FRED GIRL FOR FUCKS SAKE. i spent longer than necessary on this and i still hate it but im a (wo)man of my word and will answer the requests i know im capable of. sorry for the typos lol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Corner! Boot! Stop playing around - this is serious!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s voice rang out above the large group gathered in the Room of Requirement. Corner and Boot immediately froze from where they were playing with one of Fred and George’s Boxing Telescope’s and trying to see who would get hit first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like most students, the boys had a special type of fear of the D.A. co-founder. Truthfully, you almost admired the power Hermione held over the members - though you were just as guilty of fooling around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful, ‘Mione, those are valued customers,” Fred warned as he and George came up behind the boys, putting their hands on Corner’s and Boot’s shoulders as a father would a son. You had to stifle laughter at their concerned voices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George continued, “Exactly. Not very good for business, is it, Fred?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely not, George. And who are we, if not good businessmen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The giggle bubbled out of you this time, and Fred looked to you with his ever-present crooked smile. You felt your cheeks heat and looked down at your hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps your schoolgirl crush had begun to evolve to something more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts. He was untouchable, unavailable - completely and utterly off-limits. He was Fred and you were Y/N. He belonged to George, Angelina, and Lee. You belonged to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wholly unattainable.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But maybe… </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you shut yourself down. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not. Allowed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You weren’t Ron and Hermione, who, despite their oblivion, were so clearly in love with each other. You weren’t Dean and Seamus pretending their feelings for each other did not exist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your crush and Fred being Fred were two things that could never coexist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oy, Y/N!” Your ears perked up at your name being called by none other than the boy that occupied your thoughts. “Are you French?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” you asked, confused. What does that even mean?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before you could question any further, he continued, “Because Eiffel for you.” A wave of his wand had small hearts flying towards you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You rolled your eyes a little painfully. “Shut it, Weasley.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>was why you could never be with him. Everything was a joke, a prank. As much as you loved being a fellow troublemaker with him and George, it still hurt when his lighthearted banter hit you right in the heart. He would never </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>mean it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred dramatically fell back into George’s arms, the back of his hand placed on his forehead and eyes closed. “She’s wounded me, Georgie. Forgive me, but I believe I may die of a broken heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s voice interrupted again. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fred</span>
  </em>
  <span>, we do not have time for this. We only have so much time to practice without getting caught and you can’t spend all of it flirting your way into Y/N’s pants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both you and Fred spoke at the same time, freezing to look at each other, faces reddening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You decided to speak first. “He’s not ‘flirting his way into my pants’, Hermione.” Queasiness invaded your system and you prayed this conversion would have an early end. There was not a single chance you wanted to bring anything like this up, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>in front of so many people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione seemed to understand this - bless her brilliant mind - and moved on from the subject. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anyways</span>
  </em>
  <span>, now that you two are done,” she said sternly, “we’re supposed to be practicing simple disarming today - a refresher, if you will.” She clapped her hands loudly, raising her voice even more, “Lines, everybody! Wands at the ready!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite their playing, Dumbledore’s Army responded quickly, following orders. They were there because they wanted to be, and when it came down to learning and practice, the group turned much more serious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you got into line, you made it a point to stay as far away from Fred as possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>September 1, 1991</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is this carriage full?” you asked shyly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Hogwarts Express had been so stuffed full of students and trunks that it took forever to find a carriage. But eventually, you had found an emptier one. Inside had been two boys, a redhead and another with the most peculiar scar.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The redhead had spoken up first. “Nope, it’s only the two of us,” he said kindly. “I’m Ron Weasley.” He stuck out a hand to shake.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You shook his hand gingerly, more occupied with taking care of your belongings. “Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ron grinned and gestured over to the other boy. “This is Harry Potter. Like </span>
  </em>
  <span>the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Harry Potter.” At the confusion on his face, he continued, “You know, the Boy Who Lived?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You shook your head slowly. The wizarding world was something you were quite unfamiliar with. You were just a Muggleborn. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” you questioned, trying your best not to come off as rude.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Luckily, Harry had interrupted. “I don’t understand why it’s so important either. I’m just Harry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, alright, Just Harry. Perhaps we’ll both learn what makes you so special in the future,” you shrugged.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You took a seat next to Ron, but before you could speak, the door reopened. Two twins that held much resemblance to Ron and his red hair peeked into the carriage.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, Ron,” one of them said. “Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your eyes caught onto the other twin, who had a goofy grin on his face. He looked down at you and winked, making you consider hiding in the depths of your jumper.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You had never been one to crush on someone, but something about him made your cheeks heat and you had to push down the urge to start fixing your hair.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The conversation between the twins, who you learned were named Fred and George, was over before you knew it. They had retreated from the carriage and gone on to do whatever it was they were doing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You, Ron, and Harry continued to speak amongst yourselves, sharing all your excitement about attending Hogwarts. In that time, Hermione Granger had also visited you, and you had taken a liking to her immediately.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Still, your thoughts kept tracing back to the meeting with Fred, and how you wished you could redo that first impression.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y/N, be quiet, you’re going to get us caught,” George shushed from his spot beside you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You rolled your eyes and Fred nudged you in the ribs. You pushed him back, a grin on your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were waiting for Kenneth Towler to exit his dormitory. Late last night, you and the twins had snuck up and placed Bulbadox powder into his pajamas. And now, you were waiting in anticipation for the results.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just on time, Kenneth stumbled down the stairs with a more than distressed look on his face, mixed in with a large amount of fury. He was covered in boils from head to toe, courtesy of the powder, and had his wand at the ready, prepared to hex whoever had caused his current state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In your defense, there </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a reason you had chosen Kenneth as your target. He was a despicable boy - one who would never shut up about blood purity. He hated you the exact same way Malfoy hated Hermione. So, when the twins proposed covering him in boils, you had been on board almost immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You made the mistake of laughing a little too loudly from your hidden position in the common room, and Kenneth’s eyes narrowed on you. He stomped forward and grabbed your arm, pulling you from the hiding spot. Fred and George jumped forward, but the boy was already waving his wand a little too aggressively at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Did you do this?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he growled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You just stared at him and quirked an eyebrow. Distaste filled your mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dumbledore always wants to preach that Muggleborns and half- and purebloods are the same, but they’re not, are they? You don’t belong here, you filthy little </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mudblood</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kenneth spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You ripped your arm from his grasp and backed up. Before you knew it, Fred had him tackled to the ground, his hands fisted in Kenneth’s shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say that again.” Fred’s voice was colder than you’d ever heard it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenneth had the audacity to fake confusion. “Say what? That she’s a Mudblood whore or that you’re a dirt-poor blood traitor? Even worse, you’re probably fucking the disgusting bitch-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One fist after another shut Kenneth right up. Fred always had an issue with his anger, and few people could calm him down once he got riled up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George decided to step forward once Fred had done enough damage and yank his twin off the bloodied boy. Neither seemed concerned with what had just taken place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, you weren’t too concerned either. You had become pretty much numb to the insults and behavior about Muggleborns. Draco Malfoy had shown enough of that pureblood superiority for a lifetime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You still did enjoy the satisfaction that came along with seeing someone so rude being punished. You would’ve preferred to do the job yourself, but the twins had always been a little protective of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were almost like the brothers you never had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your hand wrapped around Fred’s arm and pulled him from the common room and out through the corridors, George following close behind. You resolved to deal with the consequences of Kenneth’s scene later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, you stopped in a deserted hallway. “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>was that, Fred?” You pushed him, not forcefully, but enough to move him backward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George quickly made the decision that he was needed elsewhere, and left the two of you in the isolated corridor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred gave you an incredulous look. “What do you mean? He needed to watch his snobby mouth and learn a lesson.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what lesson was that? The easiest way to get his rivals in trouble is to make them mad? If this happens one more time, they won’t hesitate to kick you out. Dumbledore and McGonagall can only do so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred was always so quick to act, never think. More times than you could count had he ended up in detention after thinking with his heart, never his head. You had received plenty of warnings about his behavior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a step closer, his anger rising again. You didn’t back down. “And I suppose I was just going to let him say that shit? He’s bloody disrespectful,” Fred shot back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pushed your finger into his chest, also getting mad. “And you’re a bloody idiot if you think that beating up some slimy git will solve anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred’s breathing was heavy and ragged, and you noticed he was millimeters away from your face. His eyes trailed down to your lips, but you backed away quickly, recomposing yourself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was dumb, and now we’re all going to get in trouble for it, not just you. Or do George and I just not exist?” you continued a little more calmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started pacing, still fumbling with the remaining scraps of anger. “Of course you exist. I’ll take the blame and talk to McGonagall, okay?” His eyes stared at you pleadingly, asking for forgiveness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you would give it to him. Again and again and again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A heavy sigh escaped your mouth. “I know, Fred,” you paused bringing your hand to cover your eyes for a moment, suddenly tired, “I just...need you to stop getting so mad over stupid things. One of these days, you’ll put someone in St. Mungo’s because they called you a blood traitor. Your family can’t handle that kind of scrutiny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get it, okay? I do. But it’s not worth it.” You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. The day had just started and you were already exhausted with everything. You hadn’t even looked at your Potions homework that was due tomorrow. “I gotta go. I’ll catch you later, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred mumbled an agreement and you took off in search of your other friends. You and Hermione had planned on studying together today and you were going to be late if you didn’t hurry up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You hadn’t spoken to him since yesterday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Professor McGonagall had pulled you aside at one point and explained what happened and how Fred took the fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She also explained his punishment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since almost all of the Weasleys were always so ready to take the blame for something, a different approach had to be taken in order to solve the problem. Because when one person didn’t learn from their mistakes, the whole group would suffer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Collective punishment, that’s what it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the 7th year Gryffindors were required to help tutor and mentor younger students, specifically the 5th years. And today, they would be helping out in Potions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You doubted Snape was happy with the arrangement, but all the same, he had brought the 7th years in and began pairing them up with the 5th years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Weasley - Fred. You will be mentoring,” Snape’s drawling voice paused, scanning his list, “Ms. Y/L/N. Try not to get in her way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You bit back a smile at the small bit of praise, but couldn’t help the grin as Fred sauntered over to you, that same crooked smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll do my best not to disrupt you, Ms. Y/L/N,” he winked and your chest tightened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ought not to, I am, after all, doing very important things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The class passed by with a plethora of jokes and hidden smiles. This was why you were in love with him. He made everything just a little bit brighter, made it a little bit easier to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was like the sun - full of light, daunting, and beautiful. People may look at him and squint and curse him for his existence at times, but he was essential to life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The world would be a much darker place if Fred Weasley were no longer to inhabit it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he prodded you in the stomach and pointed towards Ron, “dare me to put some Bombtastic Bombs in my dear brother’s cauldron?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook your head. “Did you forget why we’re here in the first place, idiot? As amusing as that’d be, I don’t want you getting in more trouble-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too late. I had already put them in like,” he stared at his bare wrist, “10 minutes ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slapped his arm. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fred</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you hissed, “Snape is going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill </span>
  </em>
  <span>you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not too worried about it. First,” he ticked off his fingers, “Ron is absolutely horrible at Potions, so Snape wouldn’t be surprised if things exploded. Second, no one saw me because I’ve been with you the whole time. Right?” He winked at you and you scowled. “And last, see Seamus sitting right next to Ron? Enough said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A laugh bubbled out of you, and you relented to watch the show. “Idiot,” you muttered again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like to think I’m quite gifted...at least in non-academic fields.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t respond because Ron’s cauldron had already exploded and left Strengthening Solution on every nearby surface. He looked around angrily until his eyes caught onto Fred near-dying of laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron stopped glaring when he noticed you laughing as well, his eyes softening noticeably.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Weasley!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Snape exclaimed. Three heads turned up in attention. “All of you - </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ms. Y/L/N, what in Merlin’s name were you thinking? Are you so dimwitted that you can’t make it through one class without messing up? Get out. Now. Detention starts here at 8.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snape cut you off. “Out. Do I need to spell it out for you?” A wave of his wand and the door opened, your items flying through it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You rolled your eyes and got to your feet. It wasn’t the twins who had gotten on your nerves, though, just Snape. The greasy monkey always seemed to have his broomstick stuck up his ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron didn’t seem </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>mad and he did nudge your shoulder as you walked out, which was always a good sign. You almost felt bad that he was always the target of the pranks, but he and Harry usually managed to get some sort of laugh out of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You made your way to the common room slowly, ready to fall asleep in preparation for a very long detention later, a certain mischievous smile and red hair on your mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You had woken up from another flashback. This time, from 4th year when you and Fred had learned to dance together for the Yule Ball.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a fun time, honestly. Both of you fumbling around while McGonagall yelled at you for not taking it seriously. You had managed to gather yourselves enough to dance during the Ball itself, but it was still not the best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You distinctly remember getting drunk on butterbeer with the rest of the Gryffindors that night, Fred right by your side. You had been so close to telling him how you truly felt that the mortification you had felt the next morning still haunted you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had to tell him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hurt too much to keep living a lie that you didn’t care about him in more than a platonic way. That he was much more than a friend to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The longer you refused to tell him, the more your heart broke every time he made another stupid joke. You wouldn’t survive it much longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You calmed your erratic heartbeat as you walked down to the dungeons. You decided that it would be best to get there early in order to prepare yourself. Confidence was a tattered piece of string that you were holding onto for dear life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your fingers lost their hold on that string, however, when you were greeted with the sight of Snape yelling at Fred as you entered the classroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The professor quickly stopped when you noticed you in the doorway, and swept out of the room, only pausing to say, “Organize the bottles and clean out the shelves. Tell the other Weasleys to do the same - you have two hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, he was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred met you at the entrance immediately, throwing an arm around your shoulders and walking you into the classroom. “You were right, Snape knew it was George and me,” he began. “Sorry for getting you dragged into it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, I don’t mind. Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” you teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled and shook his head, but you could sense a bit of guilt in his tone. You leaned into his shoulder for a minute and nudged him lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious, Fred. I’d much rather be here than sitting in the common room all alone on a Friday night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth leaned close by your ear and murmured, “And there’s nothing else you’d want to be doing on a Friday night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tensed immediately and turned to look at him; once again, his face was millimeters from your own. For the first time, you noticed the slight red lining his eyes, the dark circles right below them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was struggling</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you realized. The past year had been a stressful one, and Umbridge had done nothing to help. You were one of the few people who understood why he and George were the way they were. You understood the pressure they had after Percy. The impulsiveness, as well as the way they had issues concentrating on singular tasks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It reminded you of a Muggle disorder you had heard about from parents a long time ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>ADHD, it was called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You ignored his question. “Are you feeling well, Fred? Have you been sleeping?” You reached up a hand to touch his face gingerly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this time, it was he who tensed and backed away, eyes shuttering. His voice was perfectly neutral when he spoke. “I think we should start on the bottles and leave the shelves to George and Ron, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart sputtered but you nodded. Something was wrong, and here you were, making things about yourself. Your feet carried you over to the far wall and you busied yourselves with grouping the proper potions together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shaking of your hands got so bad that you had to take a break. The bottles were clinking together precariously, matching the clashing of your thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Should you still tell him? Would you ruin things if you did?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron and George still hadn’t arrived, and you had an idea that Fred asked them to come late. Despite his charisma and extroversion, when he was stressed, Fred liked to be alone with his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you, it appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You ended your break, but your thoughts still circulated on your current situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred was on the other side of the classroom, working on his own potions, and the room was quiet. It was a comfortable sort of silence, the kind that lets you breathe in the feeling of finally feeling at home with someone. But a nagging sense made you think that maybe comfortable silence wasn’t all that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wanted to talk to him. To confront him about what he was feeling - and what you were feeling too. It was dangerous when he lost his inhibitions, and impulsiveness took the forefront of his mind. Sometimes, his pranks could edge into merciless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The potion slipped from your hands, shattering across the wooden floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forgetfulness Potion spread on the floor, giving the few scraps of parchment laying on the ground an orange tint as they became soaked in the liquid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You dropped to your knees and began sweeping the glass together with your hands. Snape didn’t let students bring wands to detention - he didn’t want kids to skimp out on their tasks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of the professor, he was going to kill you if he found out you broke the potion. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>if you ruined any of his other items.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y/N,” Fred came jogging over to you, concern lacing his voice, “you’re going to hurt-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hissed escaped your mouth as a larger shard of glass cut into your finger. Blood dripped onto the floor, but you simply put the finger into your mouth, sucking on it, and resumed sweeping with your other hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-yourself,” Fred finished. He bent down beside you and pulled on the wrist of the injured hand. He brought up to the dim candlelight, giving him better access to see the cut. “It’s not bad, but you should still see Madam Pomfrey for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Fred,” you said a little irritated. “The real issue is that Snape will give me detention for the rest of the term if he finds out I broke a potion and I can’t handle that, not with D.A. and Umbridge, and there’s just so much going on that I won’t survive being stuck in this room almost every day and of course, I don’t have my wand and I can’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Fred cut your rambling off softly, “relax. You thought I wouldn’t bring my own wand? Given </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>record? Stop worrying and let me take care of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stress over the last years came crumbling around you and you couldn’t help it as your eyes began to water. It was always the strangest feeling - being taken care of. You never thought you would get used to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You ignored the tears that were starting to falling and repeated, “It’s fine. I don’t want you getting in trouble for me. I wasn’t paying attention and it just slipped-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your voice cracked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small sob followed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred didn’t even speak as he brought you to a standing position, wiped the few traitorous tears that slipped down your face, and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And wrapped his arms around you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing you noticed was just how soft he was. The cotton of his jumper met your face as you leaned your head into his chest. He was also warm, helping to disintegrate the chill that had infiltrated your bones in the dungeons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The muscles of his arms flexed slightly as he held you closer to his body, giving you the freedom to leech all the comfort from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s exactly what you did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You felt guilty about the number of tears falling as well the running of your nose. But all Fred did was reassure you gently, one arm around your waist, and the other gently stroking your hair. He took on your entire body weight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was stupid, you knew that. Such a small thing like a dropped potions bottle shouldn’t have had you breaking down this much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wanted to scream, to shout, to release every obscenity and profanity there ever was to exist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But instead, you were silent. Quiet. The only noise being your shaking inhales every few seconds and the slightest of sobs when you exhaled, after which Fred would whisper something lovely and meaningless and that sounded an awful lot like hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like assurance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew that it wasn’t a broken bottle that brought you down. He knew that it was a build-up of things over so much time. Things that you had bottled so heavily and distracted yourself from with a million worthless activities.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You felt safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, so safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a while, your tears finally dried up, and even after that, Fred still held you, giving you all his strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when you did finally disentangle yourself, he just smiled, not pityingly, not sympathetically. It was full of understanding with an undertone of pride.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gratitude, relief, compassion. Like he was glad you let him take a piece of the burden that weighed you down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” you murmured softly, feeling rather raw and cut open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His grin came back. “Don’t worry about it. You’re my best friend, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Four words sent a shot through your heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re my best friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s all you would ever be - a friend. You had no tears left to shed, not an ounce of emotion left to care. You were spent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred noticed the turmoil on your face. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you have to do this to me?” The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was taken aback. “What? Did I do something wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin, no. That’s not what I... </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I didn’t mean to say it like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why were you still speaking? What was the word vomit leaving your mouth?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y/N. Tell me.” There was a mischievous smile on his face, like he knew something you didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” you said, your face getting hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a step towards you. “Y/N…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe it was the exhaustion from earlier or the softness of Fred’s voice but you couldn’t help it when you blurted out, “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake and saw the smile playing across his lips. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you exclaimed, cursing yourself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, you peered up to see Fred laugh a little and promptly brought your hands to your face, drowning in mortification.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You would never live this down. Never in a million years would he forget this, forget your words. You had laid yourself bare in front of him and he would reject you and laugh in your face and go to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Angelina </span>
  </em>
  <span>about how the silly 5th year he considered his best friend </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>fancied him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How pathetic could you be?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You felt hands wrap around your wrists, slightly pulling your hands from where they were busy covering your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y/N, darling, don’t do that.” His voice was a lilting song trickling into your ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook your head, turning to the side. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. It just slipped out and we can forget the whole thing happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took both wrists in one hand, still holding them between the two of you, and used the other to gently grasp your chin, turning your head to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You refused to meet his eyes, instead, staring down at the broken bottle still on the ground. It reminded you a bit of your own heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y/N, look at me. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were the fullest you’d ever seen them, the richest shade of brown, pupils dilated ever so slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred leaned in, moving the hand that had been on your chin to cup your jaw, still gentle as ever. You closed your eyes as his face stopped barely a hair’s breadth away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whispered quietly, barely a breath, “I love you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You always thought people were joking when they described lips as two clouds - but that was exactly what this felt like. They were like cushions, so comfortable that you didn’t think you’d mind spending the rest of your life kissing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart soared and your hands moved up to Fred’s hair, tilting your head up to give him better access. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so much more than a simple kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was years spent hiding your feelings, spent being scared of ridicule. It was a fear that even if the Weasleys happily associated themselves with Muggles, maybe the pureblood in him wouldn’t want your muddied blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed those thoughts away. His lips stepped in and relieved you of every fear and heartbreak you’d ever felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a hand still cupping your face and the other slid down to rest against the small of your back. He pushed you towards him, your bodies touching in every possible location.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lips. Chests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fucking hell-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t realize Fred had pushed you backward until your back met the wall. He deepened the kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your hands had just begun to lightly tug on his hair when the door to the Potions room slammed open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You broke apart to see Harry, Hermione, Ron, and George staring at you. Of all of them, George seemed the least surprised to see the two of you entangled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron stomped forward, a fury you’d never seen on his face. He walked up and shoved Fred backward, making him stumble into a desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the pranks, Fred would never raise a hand against any of his siblings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had expected the same anger on Ron’s face to fill his voice and was taken aback at the sadness of it. The loss lacing his conviction. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You could have had anyone - why did it have to be her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone in the room froze as a certain understanding clicked. The guilt hit you first, and you moved to step forward, stopping when you realized the mess you must’ve looked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tearstained; swollen lips; pitying eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred looked at you apologetically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t pass by Ron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, the anger you had been expecting came through as Ron threw a punch at his brother, the latter fully stumbling with his hands reaching to hold his newly injured eye. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Ron yelled again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred looked up, and still, no anger could be found, only regret. “I didn’t know,” he said quietly. Regretfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And before Ron could take another step closer, Harry and Hermione came forward, grabbing his arms and pulling him out of the classroom. Hermione looked over her shoulder and silently apologized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded silently, not really caring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they had left, you made a beeline for Fred, pushing his face up to see a bruise already blooming across his left eye. George busied himself by walking into the adjoined room, leaving you in silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got me good, eh?” Fred asked, still squinting against the swelling. “I taught him that one years ago. I got to say, he didn’t disappoint.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You idiot. Why didn’t you stop him?” Your voice was soft, already predicting his answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know just as well as I that I wouldn’t fight back against my own blood - well, except for that time with the Aging Potion, but that was different.” Again, that crooked smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop joking about this, Fred.” Your fingers danced across his face lightly, carefully assessing for damage. You could sense the sincerity in his words. “Merlin, this is my fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sobered quickly. “That’s not true. You could predict his actions just as well as the rest of us. This is nobody’s fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know he and Hermione are hung up on each other, but I didn’t expect him to turn to me. He doesn’t actually like me, he’s just deflecting, but I could see the way he looks at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred grabbed your chin like before, bringing your eyes to meet his. “It’s not your fault, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, you nodded, swallowing the guilt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took that as enough and straightened, stretching his arms up so you could see a sliver of pale skin where his shirt lifted. “I’ll tell George to finish up the shelves with the others. You, my darling, get the honor of accompanying me to the Hospital Wing. I don’t expect this headache to ebb anytime soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled and laced your fingers through his. Your eyes tracked as Fred cleaned up the mess from the spilled potion with his wand. A smile painted itself on your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart felt fuller than it had in months.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they finished in detention, Harry and Hermione brought Ron to apologize for his behavior in the common room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pretended not to see the longing in Hermione’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you expected, Fred accepted the apology immediately and offered one of his own. He truly felt bad about not knowing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, it was long-past curfew, and you had Fred seated against the back of one of the couches, you standing in the space between his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You carefully applied the salve Madam Pomfrey had offered you. Fred winced every time your fingers touched the area. It only served to increase the pit in your stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you had finished, Fred quickly took the metal jar from your hand and dropped it on the couch behind him. He drew you in closer, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, when your lips met his, there was a different passion behind it. One that said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘let’s finish what we started’</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gasped as he bit your bottom lip gently, and he swallowed the gasp, bringing you closer and closer and closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you eventually broke apart, he didn’t wait for you to speak before saying, “I know you’re scared. And that you feel guilty. But it will be okay, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Ron-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-will be okay,” he finished for you. “Merlin, Y/n, I’ve loved you since the moment I first met you. And my love has only increased over the years, and by now, I’m more than certain that my love for you knows no bounds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Tears burned the back of your throat. All that you managed was, “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fred kissed you lightly - only for a moment - but when it broke, he didn’t back away. Millimeters away from your face, he whispered, “There is nothing I know better. My family has always detested that George and I could never be like Percy or Bill, but you never cared. There are few things in this world that I trust, and one of them is the sheer knowledge that I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tears actually fell this time, tripping and stumbling over themselves as they slid down your face. “I love you, too. I never thought we could be together like this, never even imagined you’d want that. But, Fred, I don’t think there’s ever been a moment that I had not loved you, and somehow, I always knew it’d be you. Forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never been a fan of permanence, but, hell, if you don’t make forever sound like the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You moved first this time, lips meeting his in an increasingly familiar dance. You pushed him to be seated on the other side of the couch, straddling his hips. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>in control of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you didn’t plan to waste a single second of it.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
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